Turn The Page
by John Damen
Summary: I hated what Umbrella did to the Female Subject so much that I had to write this story. Writen acording to the events described in Wesker's Report 2.
1. Prelude

Turn The Page

By John Damen

"Please don't cry. I swear I'll try, to be here by your side." – Stephen Lynch

The high-pitched whine of the helicopter's engine wasn't noticeable to most in the United States Army surplus Bell UH-1B, but Brian Jackson noticed it. At first he didn't notice it, then it annoyed him, then he started to hate it, but now, it was comforting. It let him know the engine was working properly.

Brian scanned the cabin yet again, desperate to get his eyes on anything but the pattern of the rivets in the chopper's hull.

Across from him was a scientist, one of three in the helicopter, including himself. He turned to one of the four soldiers in the helicopter with him. This man's name was Jay Dallas. Brian had befriended him while they were waiting for their transport. Brian had called him JD, and Jay seemed to find a source of humor in the nickname.

Jay saw Brian looking at him, "Nervous?"

"Ain't you?" Brian asked.

"Little, but don't worry, you'll be fine."

Brian nodded, "How long you been with Umbrella, JD?"

Jay put the barrel of his Colt M-16 A1 on the helicopter's deck, so if it went off, the bullet wouldn't go through the engine, "What?"

"How long have you been working for Umbrella?"

Jay thought for a second, "Little over 3 years. Why?"

Brian just shrugged, "Just wanted to know."

Jay chuckled, "Bored enough to ask about me, huh?"

Brian grinned and leaned back against the aluminum hull of the chopper and closed his eyes, "Yeah, not much else to do on these flights. The movie really sucks. And those peanuts they gave us are stale!"

Jay let out a laugh at his friend's joke. 

Brian looked out of the window in the sliding door on the helicopter and saw that they had started flying over Raccoon City. Brian hoped they would land there. He really had to piss. His hopes were dashed when the city below them disappeared, and was once again replaced by treetops. 

Brian knew that they were over the Arklay Forest and would soon reach the Spencer Estate. He knew that the estate was just a façade put up only to hide the vast underground laboratories. 

He had known the kind of company Umbrella was. They billed themselves as a pharmaceutical company. He also knew that that was just bullshit public relations. They were feverishly creating biological-weapons in underground labs like the one he and every other person in the helicopter had been assigned to.

Did he care about that? Fuck no. He had other intentions than to help create bio-weapons. The weapons he would be helping to develop didn't concern him at all. It was not coincidence that he had been transferred to the Arklay labs. He had dropped hints, worked hard, forged papers, hacked into computer systems, all over the course of his two years at Umbrella.

It was also not by chance that he had befriended Jay Dallas. Though his friendship with Jay was genuine, it had started because he needed someone like Jay to help him out in the months or years to come.

Brian was a very calculating man. He didn't think of his next move, he thought of the move he would be making three months in the future.

Looking to his right, he saw that Jay had laid his chin on the stock of his M-16 and was snoring softly. Looking to his left, he saw the forest stretched as far as the eye could see, and the mountain ranges reaching into the clouds.

Brian closed his eyes and remembered the floor plan of the estate and subterranean laboratories. If worse came too worse, it would be hard to get out alive. But, he was a man who could bide his time. He would not make his move until he knew the time was right. Maybe that is why he was so good at Chess.

The helicopter went through a small jet-stream and dropped sharply, causing Jay, who's head was carefully perched on the assault rifle stock, to fall off of the cot-like bench and onto the deck, much to the delight of everyone in the aircraft.

As Jay was climbing back into his spot, Brian looked back out of the window, and saw the old mansion sitting amongst the trees. From what he heard, Spencer was a calculating man. But if you were to know both Brian and Spencer, you would know that Brian could always beat Spencer in a game of Chess.


	2. Arrival

Chapter 1

"Arrival"

July 31st, 1977

Before the helicopter touched down on the soft grass in front of the Spencer Estate, Jay had opened the sliding door and hopped out of the aircraft. Brian followed his friend and was also standing next to Jay by the time the helicopter's landing skids had settled onto the soft earth.

A man dressed in a white lab coat over a business suit was waiting for them as the pilot killed the magnetos and the helicopter's engine changed pitch and whined as it powered down.

As the man got close, Brian could see that this guy was all work.

"Gentlemen, follow me," was all he said.

Jay leaned over and jokingly whispered to Brian, "God, I wish that guy would shut up."

Brian laughed as they followed the man towards the mansion through the knee-high grass, which was being blown about as though it was an ocean from the helicopter's rotors even as they slowed to a stop.

It took almost thirty minutes to get to the labs. They had to change elevators several times and do quite a bit of walking. The other scientists and soldiers had to go to other parts of the facility, but Brian and Jay were headed for the upper parts of the complex. The ones that took the highest security to enter.

When they saw "her", Brian's jaw tightened and he let out a hiss through his teeth. 

Jay was only able to mutter, "God almighty."

She was bound to a pipe bed, a blank look on her face. Jay knew nothing of her, but she was the reason Brian was there.

The man in the white suit was saying something, but Brian wasn't listening. He walked over to where she was, pulled a pen light from his pocket, and flashed it in each of her eyes. Jay watched as Brian held the pen light in his fist and moved it from right to left in font of the woman's eyes, and was surprised when she followed the light by moving her head.

The man in the white lab coat handed Jay a clipboard; "She's what you've been assigned to guard."

Jay lifted a page on the clip-board and took a long look at it, "Name: Unknown, Age: 24, Date Of Birth: 1953."

Brian glanced at Jay as he kept reading, "Test subject for T-Virus research. Received her first injection at age 14. Has been injected with various experimental viruses since her first injection on November 10th, 1967."

The man in the suit turned to Jay, "Now I don't know why they'd assign an armed guard to watch over a vegetable, I don't really care. Your jobs will to be sure that no-one tries to harm or kidnap her. You will also have to feed and clean her. If you need anything, just ask."

Jay favored him with a glance, a polite smile, and the assurance that he would be fine.

The man nodded, turned on the balls of his feet, and headed for another part of the laboratory.

Brian checked her pulse and was dismayed that when he pulled his hand away, there was a large white spot on her arm where he had rubbed the dirt and grime from her skin. Suddenly ridden with guilt, Brian pulled a handkerchief from one of his pockets, "Jay, hand me your canteen."

Jay reached back and pulled one of his two canteens from his pistol belt and handed it to him.

Brian unscrewed the cap, put his handkerchief over the neck of the canteen and poured a little water onto the cloth before putting the water container on a nearby table. Jay exited the small room while reading the papers on the clipboard, both typed and hand-written notes as Brian gently wiped the damp cloth over her cheek, removing the dirt from her face.

Slowly but surly, the grime was removed from her face and almost ghost-white skin appeared. Skin that hadn't seen the sun in over a decade. She made a raspy sound and Brian promptly put the handkerchief away.

The woman looked at Brian and she saw he was looking into her eyes as he gently lifted her head with one hand, and held Jay's canteen to her lips with the other. When water touched her lips, the woman parted them enough so the cool liquid could flow into her mouth and finally down her dry throat.

Brian gently placed her head back on her pillow and smoothed her hair, "Its okay. I'm here now."

The woman turned her gaze to Brian once again.

"You remember me, don't you?" Brian asked her, knowing full well she could not answer him.

"We'll talk later," Brian said, then got up, and went to start his work, leaving her with his friend.


	3. Work Begins

Chapter 2

"Work Begins"

August 1st, 1977

Brian had been up for almost sixteen hours. In that time, he had studied the progress of the T-Virus and learned how it infects those who come in contact with it. Four hours ago he had started an official log, recording his official work on the T-Virus, its possibilities, and his work on the female subject.

He had stolen a composition book as well and made it his private journal, recording his real work on the female subject and the goings-on in the complex. Brian was sitting by the female subject, hunkered over his private journal, a candle burned in front of him, casting shadows that danced on the walls as he scribbled furiously on the paper with a pencil, his handwriting almost illegible to all but himself;

August 1st 1977,

It took some doing, but I finally found her. It had been so long since I saw her last; I had almost forgotten what she looked like. When I _did_ see her, I almost had a heart attack. She's only a shell of her former self. Just seeing her would make even the most hopeful of humans lose faith in the possibility of helping her…but when she saw me, I know she recognized me. The way she looked at me had shown me her feelings. For the first time in, what had to have been a decade, she has hope.

Right now, she's asleep, and therefor cannot see me as I write this. I want to get her out of here, but I can't move fast. I know that now. I also know that there is little hope of getting her out of here soon. She will not have a long life of coherency, but I am determined to get her out of here. When she dies, she _will_ die as a human, not as a lab-rat. As short as her life as a person may be, I want to give her the chance to make something of it. Once, she confided in me before all this, that she had wanted to have a family. I want to give her the chance for that.

Seeing her as she is now, and remembering how she was only a few years ago…so happy…so full of life…it is almost too much to handle. Umbrella stole her youth, they stole her hopes, they stole her dreams, they stole her sanity. They stole from her, all that defined her, not as a human, but as a person. This can not be allowed. I will give her back her life, but I can not give her back her youth. Not yet, at least.

Brian closed his journal, slipped it into a pocket of his white lab-coat, and immediately began scribbling words on a clipboard when the door opened and Jay entered with a tray of food.

Jay looked at the sleeping woman, then to Brian, who yawned, "Tired?"

Brian nodded and checked his watch, "Yeah. Been up too long. That's all," he noticed the tray of food, "Is that for her or me?"

"It's for her, you gotta get your own, lazy ass," Jay said with a grin.

Brian was to tired to notice the playful insult, "You should let her sleep. I'm willing to bet that it's the first time she's slept soundly in a few years."

"I'm willing to bet you're right," Jay said, as he sat the food on a stool by her bed, "This place gives me the willies."

Brian laughed and scribbled a little more on his clipboard before getting up and going to the door.

Jay turned to his departing friend, "Brian?"

"Yeah, JD?"

Jay paused for a moment, then asked, "How do you feel about what we're doing down here?"

Brian thought for a second, then looked at the female subject, "It's not right. Good night, Jay."

"Good night, Brian. See ya in the morning," Jay said, as his friend left the room.


	4. Brian's Hope

Chapter 3

"Brian's Hope"

July 31st, 1978

Having woken up early in the morning, Brian headed to the laboratory to get started on his work when the main doors opened and he saw three people enter. He recognized the tallest as the lab-director and two other men followed him.

The first was a short man with reddish-brown hair in a bowl cut and he wore a white lab-coat over a red and brown plaid button up shirt. His blue eyes were locked on the clipboard he held.

The second was a taller man with blond hair, which was slicked back. He wore mostly black, from his T-shirt, to his jeans. The only other color he wore was white, and that was the color of the lab-coat he also wore. What was unusual was the fact that he had on a pair of dark-rimmed sunglasses.

Jay leaned next to Brian and nudged him in the ribs, "Look at that. If either one of them is twenty, I'll be amazed. Think those the two new guys they've been talking about?"

Brian nodded in agreement, "That'd be my guess."

He watched as they were crudely introduced to the female test subject. The tall ones eyebrows appeared over the rims of the sunglasses he wore in surprise and the short one looked as if he had said something to himself.

Just then the lab-director motioned them to come over. As they were walking to where the trio was standing, Brian watched the blond man. Cockiness. That was the feeling Brian got from him. The other man looked like something of a cross between a workaholic and an obsessive-compulsive.

The lab-director introduced them, "Brian Jackson, Jay Dallas, this is William Burkin and Albert Wesker."

Neither Wesker, nor Burkin made a move to shake hands, and that was fine with Brian, for he had already decided that he didn't like either of them.

"Excuse me," Brian said, pulling a syringe from a pocket of his lab-coat and uncapping it, "I've got to run some tests."

As Brian left, Jay kept his hand out until he decided he looked too foolish, and pulled his hand back, "So, you two are the new guys we've been hearing so much about?"

Wesker turned to look at him, but said nothing. Burkin was to involved in his papers to notice the soldier's questions.

After a few seconds, Jay turned and left while muttering, "Fucking assholes," under his breath.

Later that night, Brian sat in the room with the female subject and wrote in his journal. Again, by candlelight.

July 31st 1978,

I just met the two new personal they had assigned here. I don't like them. They're just to full of themselves. Nothing more than children, really. After watching them for just five seconds, I know they could seriously jeopardize my work. I can't let them do that.

It has been over a year since I started work on my cure for _her_, and I think I may have found the answer. They say it's bad luck to have a boat with no name. Is it the same for serums, antibodies, and cures? I don't think so, but to be on the safe side, I am going to call this "XCL-1". No point in taking unnecessary risks. I gave her the first injection today, but because of the design of the cure, I won't know if it is working. All I can do is keep giving her injections of XCL-1. I don't want to raise suspicions while I am here, because they may kill me if they find out what I am up to. I can't die. Not yet. And I must move slowly, because I can't have them become suspicious, even after I am gone because there is too great a risk that they will hunt us down and kill us. I can't let that happen. All I can do is move slowly, and wait.


	5. Burkin’s Frustration, Wesker’s Annoyance

Chapter 4

"Burkin's Frustration, Wesker's Annoyance"

July 27th 1981

A loud shout woke Brian from his sleep. The door to the sleeping quarters was ajar and when he looked through it, he saw Burkin storm past. Brian sighed and laid back in his bunk when another loud yell sounded from the direction that Burkin had stormed off in.

When a third yell of anger erupted from the hall, Brian let out a small scream and yelled, "I'm _UP_!"

As he was angrily pulling on his shirt, Jay appeared in the doorway rubbing his eyes which were still partly sealed shut from sleep, "What's goin' on?"

"Fuck if I know!" Brian shouted, clearly showing that he was not a morning person.

"I think I know. That was Burkin, right?" Jay asked.

Brian nodded, yawned, and got out of his bunk.

"Yeah, I think it has something to do with that new girl…umm…Alexia?"

Brian headed out of the sleeping quarters, "I think I know who to ask."

"Who?" Jay asked as Brian brushed past him.

"Ol' Stone Face himself."

Albert Wesker sat at a table in the cafeteria drinking a cup of coffee in between bites of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. This was what he was doing when Brian and Jay sat on either side of him, both with their breakfast.

"So, Al," said Brian as he scooped some eggs onto his fork, "What bug crawled up Willie's ass?"

"I assume you are referring to Doctor Bukin?" Wesker asked, annoyed with Brian's casualness.

"Huh? Oh, that's right, you two 're still on a last name bases. Yeah, I'm talkin' 'bout Dr. Burkin."

"Yeah, Wesker, what's wrong with him? Three days of waking up to banshee screams tends to wear on one's nerves," Jay said and drank his milk.

The only reason Wesker had even bothered talking to Brian and Jay this long was because Burkin's rants were annoying him as well; "You know of the girl who had recently been appointed as a Chief Researcher?"

Brian thought for a second, "Yeah, the Ashford girl. Alexia, right?"

Wesker nodded; "Yes. She's 10 years old, and one of Burkin's greatest personal achievements was being the youngest Chief Researcher in this company's history. He was 16 when made it."

"He never said anything about that to us," Jay said.

"When was the last time Burkin ever said _anything_ to either one of you two, much less something personal?" Wesker asked in a way that made both of them feel rather foolish.

Brian looked at Jay; "So that's it. Wounded pride."

"He tell you that, Wesker?" Jay asked.

"No, but its not hard to tell."

Brian got up and started out of the cafeteria, but not before patting Wesker's back; "Thanks Stone Face."

Wesker groaned in frustration and turned to Jay, "Why does he call me that?"

"Think about it," Jay said, "When was the last time you smiled?"

Without waiting for an answer, Jay got up and followed Brian, leaving Wesker alone to eat the rest of his breakfast.

Brian found Burkin in the lab, his attention so devoted to a microscope that his face might have well been glued to it; "Burkin, we need to talk."

"What about?" Burkin asked without looking away from the microscope.

"Alexia Ashford. You're waking us up at insane hours of the morning and running us ragged because of her. Everyone thinks you need to chill out."

"Really?" Burkin asked mockingly, "Tell me, big shot, what do you think is wrong with me?"

Brian wasn't about to let himself be mocked by someone who was half his age and had a third of his intelligence; "I think you need to come down off your high horse and face facts."

"Which is?" Burkin asked.

"You just suck," Brian said, and smiled as he left the lab to Burkin's angry growls.


	6. XCL 1

Chapter 5

"XCL-1"

July 29th 1981

Jay yawned and shifted in his chair as Brian walked towards him. Brian was holding two small vials in his left hand, a small first aid kit pinched between his ribcage and left arm, and his clipboard in his right hand.

"Hey man," Jay greeted his friend, "When did you get back?"

"Just a few minutes ago. I had some fun in Raccoon City," Brian said to him, "What's been happening?"

"Burkin's been running everyone so hard that Wesker's team's having trouble keeping up with him," Jay said, "He tried a half-baked idea on one of the subjects. Killed 'em. They brought in a new one. A young girl."

"She dead yet?" Brian asked, acidly.

Jay got up and unlocked the door he was guarding so Brian could enter the female subject's room while shaking his head, "Not yet. But knowing Burkin, it won't be to long."

Brian grumbled something as he passed Jay and entered the candle lit room. She was where Brian expected her to be, still bound to that bed. Her sheets were yellow with filth, just like when they first saw her. Brian had tried to order a new bedspread and new sheets, but the officials were not going to spend anymore money on her than it took to keep her alive.

Jay watched as Brian pulled his chair from the desk and sat by the bed, "Need anything?"

"Yeah, get an air-freshener. It stinks in here," Brian said as he sat the first aid kit on the table and opened the lid.

Jay turned to leave, but looked back at his friend, "You serious?"

"Yes. They won't let her out of here and all of her dried sweat is stinking up this little room. And leave your canteen, would ya?"

Jay nodded and handed Brian his canteen before leaving. Brian took the container from Jay and put it on the table before reaching into the first aid kit and withdrawing two rubber gloves and slipping them on. He then reached back into the first aid kit, withdrew a small package, and opened it.

The woman groaned as Brian and pulled the alcohol swab from the foil packing and rubbed the area of her arm where he was going to give her the injection. It wasn't until after the fact that he realized how stupid that was.

"I'm about to inject her with an experimental virus and I don't want her to get an infection? Thank three years of Med.-School for that," Brian said to himself as he pulled a syringe from his pocket, and a small piece of paper, which held the needle. He tore the paper and attached the needle onto the syringe, then slid the needle into the rubber opening in the vial and sucked some of it's contents into the sterile tube. 

Brian pressed the plunger on the syringe and pushed the air from the tub and needle before injecting her in her arm. He pulled the needle from her arm and capped it before placing the syringe in a bag marked "Biohazard".

Brian then got a fresh syringe and needle and repeated the process with the second vial, then gave her a drink from Jay's canteen before sitting back in his seat and pulling his journal from his coat pocket.

July 29th 1981,

I had to give her another injection of the T-Virus just now. But that doesn't matter, because right after I gave her an injection of XCL-1. My cure will kill the virus I just gave her, I know it will. It's working. Since her first injection in 1978, I have noticed that her intelligence is slowly returning. Only it's not working fast enough. I since time is running out. Maybe if there was something to give the XCL-1 a little boost. While I was in the City today, I started taking helicopter-piloting lesions. So far, so good. I didn't crash in a burning ball of flames on the side of the Arklay Mountains, so that's always good. I know I am going to need to know how to fly a helicopter, if I'm going to help her.


	7. Hunter

Chapter 6

"Hunter"

July 30th 1981

Brian stood by a large, metal, circular tank. On the tank was painted "XH-1". He looked at the clipboard in his hands, scanned the notes and the typed report, then wrote down his own notes and observations.

Albert Wesker walked up next to Brian and crossed his arms.

"So, this is Burkin's Hunter?" Wesker asked.

Brian nodded, "Yeah, I was just going to take some notes before it is disposed of."

"How were you going to do that?" Wesker asked and kicked the tank.

Brian raised his eyebrows when the being inside the tank growled, disturbed by Wesker's kick.

"Well, the soldiers are getting lazy, so I decided to put them in a room with this thing and let it out. If it kills the soldiers, and then we will have combat data on it, if the soldiers kill it, then it will be disposed of. The way I see it, it's a win-win situation"

Wesker smirked and nodded, "I think I want to watch that."

Brian waved a worker over to him.

"Take this," Brian said, motioning to the tank, "To Testing Room 3. And tell Corporal Dallas to also report with a fire team to Testing Room 3. Heavy armament."

Brian, followed by Albert Wesker, headed for the Observation Room to oversee the events in Testing Room 3.

Brian and Wesker watched as Jay entered Testing Room 3 with his squad of four men. He noticed that Jay's traditional Colt M-16 A1 had been fitted with an M-203 40 millimeter grenade launcher. The other men also carried Army Surplus weapons. One man carried what looked like an M-60, judging by its size, and another carried a Mossberg 500 twelve-gauge shotgun. The other two had standard M-16 A1s.

The Hunter's tank was at the other end of the room.

Brian pressed the intercom button next to him and said into the microphone, "Okay, guys, don't kill it before it gets out of the tube."

Jay waved at the glass separating him from his friend and the other soldiers exchanged worried looks. Jay pointed at the two men to his left, the machine gunner and one of the riflemen, and motioned for them to spread out further. He did the same for the remaining two men on his right. 

A buzzer sounded and the standard lights shut off in favor of red emergency lights and Brian and Wesker watched as the tank opened and the Hunter emerged. It looked like a horribly mutated man-sized frog. It had long claws on the tips of equally long fingers. The Hunter looked around, spotted the soldiers, and growled before charging at them. 

Jay was the first to open fire, and he did so by moving his hand to the grenade launcher, raising the muzzle of the rifle slightly, and squeezing the trigger. The resulting _CHOOM_ from the barrel of the grenade launcher was followed a split-second later by an enormous explosion that blew the Hunter off it's clawed feet and sent it into the far wall. As Jay slid the breech of the grenade launcher open and slid in another 40 millimeter grenade, his squad opened fire on the hunter just as it got to it's feet and ran at them. The roar of automatic weapons and the lesser sound of the shotgun were deafening. The Hunter slowed in its approach, slowed by high velocity bullets and turkey shot. One of the Hunters eyes burst and its skin ripped under the hail of bullets. 

The soldier with the shotgun stopped firing and started reloading his weapon when the Hunter used its powerful legs to jump twenty-five feet in the air. Just as the soldier slipped the last shell into the shotgun and jerked the slide forward, the Hunter slammed on the ground in front of him and prepared to inflect a killing blow with it's claws. Jay saw this and ran forward, sticking the barrel of his rifle into the side of the Hunter's head, which made a move to knock Jay away, but Jay was the quicker of the two and used both of his hands to depress the trigger on both the M-16 and the M-203. The small, high-velocity bullets ripped through the Hunter's skin, skull, and brain matter. The 40 millimeter grenade blew out of the large barrel under the assault rifle and, not having time to arm, acted as a 40 millimeter bullet, knocking the Hunter off of it's feet and into the wall. When it didn't move, and blood began to pool around it's corpse, they knew it was dead.

"Test over." Brian said into the intercom and to Wesker, then turned and left as the soldiers headed out of the testing room.


	8. Jay Dallas's Temper

Chapter 7

"Jay Dallas' Temper"

July 31st 1981

"Brian!" Jay yelled after his friend, who was heading towards the main labs.

Hearing the angry calls, Brian stopped and turned to look at the pissed off soldier, "Yeah, JD?"

"You ordered that test, right?" Jay half asked, half yelled once he had caught up to Brian, "That was your voice I heard through the intercom, right?"

"That's right," Brian said.

"You trying to kill me?"

"What do you mean?"

Jay tightened his jaw and growled through clenched teeth, "You lock me and my team in a small room with one of Burkin's unholy creations, tell us to give it a fair chance at us, and you ask, "What do you mean,"?!"

Brian shifted his weight from his left leg, to his right leg, "Yeah, I did ask that."

"You tried to kill me, you fuck!" Jay shouted.

"Oh, come on!" Brian shouted back, "Do you think I'd order that test if I didn't think you, and your team would come out of it alive? Fuck, Jay, it was five on one. You think it was suggested that you arm yourselves? Damn-it man, that Hunter only had claws and speed, your team had fully automatic weapons, Richard had a shotgun, and you had a fucking grenade launcher!"

"Fat lot of good that did us, it took a goddamned 40 millimeter slug to kill the bastard! If I didn't blow that thing's brains out, it would have cut Richard in half!"

"That thing didn't even touch him. He's fine, and so are you. In fact, I have to thank you."

Jay blinked; he wasn't expecting thanks, "What for?"

"You and your men just proved that the things we're making down here can be stopped," Brian said, and held out his hand.

Jay took a cheap shot at Brian and slammed his fist into Brian's stomach before storming back to the female subject's room.

Brian shook his head to recover before he turned to go down a different corridor, one that headed for the cafeteria. He needed a snack, and he also needed to get lunch for the female subject.

Brian sat at one of the bench tables with his lunch. It turned out that he was hungrier than he thought.

"I keep eating like this and I'm gonna get fat," Brian said to himself and rubbed his aching stomach as he picked up his fork. Two men sat their trays of food down across from him.

"May we sit here?" Albert Wesker asked Brian, whom only shrugged his shoulders.

Wesker and William Burkin sat down across from him and began to eat.

Wesker looked at Brian; "Corporal Dallas seemed pissed when I went past him."

"He's mad at me for putting his team in danger."

Burkin smirked, "Imagine that."

Before Brian could make a smart-ass remark that would most likely insult Burkin's intelligence once again, Wesker spoke up; "We're supposed to be getting a new scientist day after tomorrow."

Brian reached out for the clipboard that Wesker handed him and looked at the copy of the personnel transfer orders, "Tessa Maat? She any good?"

"We think so. Though her old superiors thought that she isn't suited for working in this facility. They said that she is too caring to work properly on the subjects," Wesker told him.

Brian scratched the stubble on his chin, "Too caring?"

Wesker nodded as Brian took the copy of the transfer orders and put them in his pocket before getting up and going back to the line, getting a tray of soft food, and heading towards the female subject's room. He was thinking of how he could work this to his advantage. If they were sending a scientist who cared about those she worked on, then he could probably get her to help him without her even knowing it.

Brian thought for a second. Maat, the Egyptian Goddess of truth, harmony, and justice. With a name like that, it was no wonder that she cared for the people that Umbrella experimented on. Most of the people that were brought in as test subjects never volunteered for it. Turning the corner, he saw the female subject's room. Yes, Tessa Maat would help him. He knew it.


	9. Tessa Maat Arives

Chapter 8

"Tessa Maat Arrives"

July 33rd 1981

Brian heard the _tick-clock, tick-clock_ that was characteristic of low body weight and high heels, and that was odd because there weren't a lot of women in the Arklay Complex. The new girl must have arrived. He yawned and checked his watch. It was 10:26am. He had been up all night and was in need of sleep. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Brian peered into the microscope in front of him and wrote on a clipboard without looking at what he was writing, confident that he was staying on the correct lines. He was not working on the T-Virus, but rather a cure.

Brian was beginning to question the affect that XCL-1 was having on the female subject. It was working. Slowly, but it was working. At the rate it was working, it would have her fully cured by the year 2005. He couldn't wait until she was 52 years old to have her back to normal.

"What are you working on?" a sweet voice asked from behind him.

Brian pulled his bloodshot eyes from the microscope and turned to look at the owner of that voice.

A woman stood some ten feet behind where he was slumped over the piece of lab equipment. She was about 5'6" with brown hair and hazel eyes. She was dressed in a red skirt with a black blouse and a white lab coat.

Brian was about to puke if he saw another lab coat.

The woman had a lopsided smile on her face as she looked at him and asked again, "What are you working on?"

Brian blinked sleepily, "Just a side project. Tessa Maat, I presume?"

"That's right," she said and smiled sweetly as she came closer.

"I'm Brian Jackson," Brian said and held out his hand, which Tessa shook.

Brian turned from his project to Ms. Maat and leaned back against the counter, "When did you get in?"

"Just a few minutes ago. I haven't had enough time to look around."

Brian felt a bit of his cynical nature seep into his next question; "Do you have a strong stomach?"

Tessa blinked, "I like to think so, why?"

"Some of the work we do down here is kinda…" Brian thought for a second, then said, "Gruesome. Blood, guts…stink. All of that stuff."

Tessa's eyes widened, "Oh, I see. Thanks for the warning."

"No problem. If you need anything, just let me know. The head researcher here is a kid named William Burkin. He and Albert Wesker work together quite a bit, you'll be reporting to them, but don't bother looking to either of them for advice on personal issues," Brian said with a smile.

Tessa let out a laugh and stood a little straighter, "Thank you Mr. Jackson."

"Please, call me Brian. Mr. Jackson was my father's name."

"Okay, Brian," Tessa said with that smile which hadn't left her face yet, "Could you tell me where my quarters are?"

"Down that hall," Brian said, pointing to a doorway, "Turn left, then just follow the signs. I hope you don't mind bunking up."

"Not at all, now if you will excuse me, I'll go put my things away and then I need to take a nap. That helicopter ride was tiring."

Brian got up and shook Tessa's hand again, "Sleep well. We tend to wake up kind of late here, so you'll get plenty of rest."

"Okay, Brian. Good Night."

"Good night, Tessa."

Once Tessa Maat was gone, Brian turned back to the microscope. On the small glass tray was a drop of the female subject's blood. Under the high magnification, Brian could see the T-Virus attacking the red blood cells. Taking a small syringe filled with a golden liquid, he let a drop of the fluid fall onto the blood. Almost immediately, the T-Virus in the blood sample died, and the red blood cells began to heal.

Smirking, Brian leaned back and stretched; "Gotcha, ya mother-fucker."

He picked up a vial that was filled with the golden liquid and wrote on it, "XCL-2", before sitting it back where it was and, putting the papers and notes in his pocket, got up to go to his room.

__

"Hey, Joe," he sang as he walked down the hall, _"Where you goin' with that, gun in your hand?"_


	10. Alexia's Death, Burkin's Joy

Chapter 9

"Alexia's Death, Burkin's Joy"

December 31st 1983

Brian glanced at the female subject when she shifted in her bed causing her chains to rattle quietly. After a second, Brian placed his hand over hers and gently ran his thumb over the dirty skin of her hand. As soon as he did this, she settled down and went back to sleep. He kept his hand over hers until he was sure she was asleep once again, then moved her hand so it rested just under the swell of her breasts.

He sighed and lit the candle on the desk. It was the only form of light Umbrella would spend any money on for her. The visiting occupant of the room preferred the candle. It allowed him to rest his eyes while still being able to see.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Brian turned from the female subject and opened his journal, which rested on the same desk on which the candle was placed. He placed his pencil on the paper and took a drink from a glass of water as he watched the shadows dance and jump across the paper as he wrote.

December 31st 1983,

Winter is upon us. While the people of Raccoon City celebrated the birth of Christ, according to his or her own beliefs, we were down here in this man made cave working on ways to turn every one of them into biological weapons. Zombies, if you will. Merry Christmas.

Of course we had our own little crude holiday celebration. And a tree. I still don't know how they got it down here. Burkin had disappeared, and I wasn't sorry to see him go. Jay tried to give the place some cheer by stringing tinsel and popcorn everywhere. I think the funniest thing I saw was when Albert Wesker fell out of one of the larger heating vents dressed as Santa Clause, complete with a sack of presents and he still had on his shades in addition to the red hat and coat. It must have been the funniest thing I ever saw in my whole life. I wonder who put the gun to his head to get him to do that one. Probably Jay.

We got word back here that Alexia Ashford is dead. They ruled it as an accident. But I know she isn't dead. Not really. If it goes down on paper, I know about it. But, Burkin believes she's dead, and that is fine with me. Now I can at least stomach him.

Two years ago, I started work on XCL-2, and it is better, but it'll still take a long time to fully cure her. I'm still looking for that little booster. I heard that the Umbrella branch in Europe had started work on what they call the Nemeses Project. It's a project designed to raise the intelligence of a zombie enough to make it into what they call a Tyrant. I believe I can make use of this, but that is still some years off.

When Tessa Maat saw the female subject for the first time, I thought she was going to blow a vessel. I'm glad she didn't, I've taken a liking to her. That and I don't want to be the one to clean her blood off of the wall.

It took some time, but Jay finally forgave me for what I did. I'm glad, too. I don't want to lose him as a friend. All I can do now is keep working and hope for the best.

Brian closed his journal and looked over at the female subject.

"Happy Birthday," Brian whispered to her, got up, snuffed the candle between his thumb and index finger, and quietly left the room as thin wisps of smoke arose from the still hot wick of the candle behind him. Thin ghosts in the room of a woman who was dead to all but one man.


	11. JD's Rings

Chapter 10

"JD's Rings"

June 30th 1988

Brian sighed and scratched the stubble on his chin, then on his cheek. He leaned back in his chair and let out a yawn, not expecting a steaming mug in his face when he reopened his eyes. After letting out a yelp of surprise and grabbing onto his chest, Brian looked up and saw Jay, who was smiling and still holding out the mug.

"Sorry," Jay said, "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright," Brian told him and accepted the offered beverage, "What is this?"

"Hot cocoa."

"In June?"

"It maybe hot outside," Jay said as he took a seat next to his friend at the worktable, "But it's fucking freezing down here."

Brian nodded and carefully took a sip from the mug, "That a new ring?"

Jay looked down at the center finger of his right hand, where a silver ring rested, "Yeah, I made it myself."

"Impressive," Brian said.

"I thought you might say that," Jay said as he pulled two more silver rings from the thigh pocket of his camouflage pants, "So, I made you a couple."

Brian sat his mug on the table, took the rings and studied them in his hand; "I only need one."

Jay shrugged, "Give one to someone you care about. It don't cost me anything to make."

Brian held the rings closer to his face and saw that a section of medal had been cut out of them so they could be adjusted. He also noticed a strange smell coming off of them, which his brain told him was the smell of charcoal, saltpeter, and sulfur.

"Why do they smell like gunpowder?" Brian asked his friend, who grinned and laughed.

"That's because they're made from .50 caliber shells. I just cut a small section from the shell, then cut out an area in them so they can be widened to fit your finger. I used stainless steel shells for these rings."

Brian blinked and looked at his friend blankly, "You have way too much time on your hands."

Jay couldn't keep from laughing, "What? Are you kidding? This is GI Jewelry. I also made a necklace from deactivated 5.56 millimeter bullets."

Brian blinked again, "_Way_ too much time on your hands."

Jay laughed and looked at the microscope, then at the notes scattered around, "You workin' on the T-Virus?"

Brian looked at the microscope, which had a sample of the female subject's blood. He was about to introduce a drop of XCL-2 into the blood, then repeat the procedure with a drop of XCL-1. He needed to record the difference in healing times between the two anti-viruses in order to get an idea of the real effectiveness of XCL-2.

Brian thought for a second about telling his friend the truth. That he was trying to find a cure for the female subject. He even considered telling Jay everything, all his ideas, all his plans. Then he decided that he would tell Jay only enough to ensure his help, but not enough to jeopardize his plans. There was still a chance that Jay would either tell the wrong person by accident, or a smaller chance that he would spill his guts to the wrong person on purpose.

"Jay, do you remember when you asked me how I felt about what we're doing down here?"

Jay thought back, then nodded, "Yeah, you said that it's not right."

"Alright. Meet me in the female subject's room tomorrow after ten o'clock. I'll tell you what I'm working on then."

"Okay," Jay said as he got up, "Have fun with your germs."

Brian took a drink of the cocoa that his friend brought him. Deciding to put the experiments on hold for a while, he put his notes away and disposed of the samples of the female subject's blood. Brian turned on the radio, which was playing a song from the 1960s. As the song progressed, so did Brian's urge to get up and dance, which he did after a time. Getting up, Brian started head-banging and strumming an air guitar. He started making a bigger ass of himself when he jumped on the chair, spun around three times, jumped from the chair and slapped the hanging lighting fixture. He then ran off to his room while singing, _"I can't get no! I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no girl in action!"_


	12. Revelations

Chapter 11

"Revelations"

July 1st 1988

Looking from the writing in his journal to his watch, Brian sighed. It was 9:59, less than a minute until ten. He let his eyes wander across the dimly lit room to the female subject. She was awake and staring blankly at the ceiling. The door clanked and the sound of metal grinding on metal filled the room as Jay walked in. Brian checked his watch and saw the hands finish moving into their ten o'clock positions.

"Right on time," Brian stated.

Jay pulled a chair in from the hall and sat by his friend, letting the door close on it's own; "I try."

Getting up, Brian made his way over to his friend, then started running his hands down Jay's sides and over his chest.

Jay said nothing for a bit, but then told him, "Keep it up and I'm going to get turned on."

Once he was finished, Brian went back to his seat; "Sorry, but I can't take any chances."

"It's not every day I get frisked."

"I'll bet."

"Now, what do you have to tell me?"

Brian was quiet for a time as he looked at the female subject, then said; "It's not right. That's what I said to you all those years ago. If you've ever thought I was wrong, then the proof is lying on that bed right there." 

Jay glanced at the female subject, but had to look away. The sight of her was too saddening.

"Umbrella imprisoned her here when she was 14. But you knew that. But what you don't know is that it's because of me that we're both here."

"What are you talking about, Brian?"

"I forged Umbrella's files and got us both transferred here. I did that, because I need your help. What Umbrella has done to her," Brian said, pointing at the female subject, "Was so wrong I couldn't stand it. So, ten years ago, I started to inject her with an experimental cure. Not just for the T-Virus, but for the Starter Virus that she was first injected with and subsequently, all other experimental viruses and drugs she was to be later injected with. Last night, I was working on an updated version of that cure."

The metal springs creaked when the female subject turned her head to look at the two men in her room.

"You know all of this is unbelievable," Jay said after a time, "If I'm gonna believe you, you'll have to prove it to me."

"How?"

"There's a girl here, her name's Kate. She was brought here as a test subject. I've taken quite a liking to her," Jay told him, "If you can get us transferred here, can you transfer her out of here?"

Brian smiled, "I'll do you one better. She'll have an apartment, car, and a job in town before the week is out. And you'll have a pass to see her every weekend guaranteed." His smile turned into a sly grin, "Don't you just love those new computers?"

Jay looked amazed, "Brian, if you can do that, I'll suck your dick."

"I'll assume you're joking about that."

"Yeah, I don't suck dick for anything or anyone," Jay told him, "But just one thing, why do you need my help?"

"If worse comes to worse, I'll need your help. I can't say anymore than that, except that it probably won't come to that."

A loud racket sounded from outside along with the steady _EEK-CREEK_ of a badly oiled wheel on a dolly-cart and Jay wondered asked to himself, "What's going on?"

"Must be the package from Europe," Brian answered, "I put it in Wesker's head to get a sample of the Nemesis Prototype. I thought it might help me out."

Jay nodded and headed out of the room to help with the package.

Brian was about to leave as well, but stopped when he saw the female subject watching him.

"Only a while longer," he told her and left the room.

Deciding to let the candle burn out, Brian got up and hurried from the small room. The female subject watched him go, and the last thing she saw before the candle's flame flickered and died, was the glint of a stainless steel ring resting on the middle finger of her left hand.


	13. Brian's Booster

Chapter 12

"Brian's Booster"

July 2nd 1988

As Jay and Brian headed out of the female subject's room, a little girl ran giggling between Brian's legs, causing him to almost fall over. He reached down and grabbed her shoulder gently enough to not hurt her, but hard enough to stop her from running any further.

"Hey squirt, where's the fire?" Brian asked with a smile.

The little girl looked up at him, cocking her head slightly to the side, "What fire, Mr. Jackson?"

Brian's face turned ugly, though it was just for show, "'Mr. Jackson'?"

The little girl grinned and giggled, "Sorry, Uncle Brian."

"It's okay, Sherrie. Now, where you runnin' off to? It's past midnight, shouldn't you be in bed?" Brian asked with a smile.

"Yeah, but, they just got some new candy bars in that room down there and I wanted one," Sherrie told him while pointing down the hall.

"Want a little sugar rush before you go to bed?" Brian asked.

Sherrie smiled and nodded vigorously.

Jay spoke up for the first time since meeting Sherrie, "How old are you?"

"I'm two," Sherrie told him, and held up three fingers for visual reference.

Jay only nodded as Brian squatted down and pushed one of Sherrie's fingers down so she held up the correct number, "Okay, go on. But if your mom or dad asks, you never saw us."

Sherrie's eyes lit up as she hugged him, "Thanks, Uncle Brian, thanks Uncle…" she squinted at Jay's nametag, "Uncle Dallas."

"My first name's Jay," He told her.

Sherrie giggled and hugged his leg, "Thanks Uncle Jay, thanks Uncle Brian."

They watched as she ran off down the hall, then Jay asked; "Uncle Brian?"

"She just started calling me that one day, and frankly, I like it a whole lot more than 'Mr. Jackson'. Besides, I _am_ like an Uncle to her. Neither Burkin, or his wife Annett are exactly the parenting type."

"That's true. Annett Burkin, god, I was hoping there wouldn't be anymore Burkins."

"Hey, Sherrie ain't bad."

"I wasn't talking about Sherrie."

"Oh."

A group of people rounded the corner. One guy was pushing a dolly-cart on which rested a package and both Albert Wesker and William Burkin flanked him and they were making a beeline for the room Brian and Jay had just exited.

"Hey, where you guys going?" Brian asked as they passed.

"To test this," Wesker stated briskly as they entered the female subject's room.

Brian and Jay followed them back into the small room and Jay asked, "What is that?"

"It's the Nemesis Prototype," Burkin told him as he opened the package and pulled out a long tube. Inside the tube was a thing that looked somewhat like a small pink octopus.

Jay grimaced, "Icky."

Another man walked in with equipment that would monitor the Nemesis as it entered the female subject. When Burkin opened the container that held the Nemesis Parasite and let the thing out onto the female subject's chest, Brian had to look away. He didn't want to watch what happened next.

He heard the female subject struggle against her chains as she tried to back away from the thing on her chest. When she let out a blood-curdling scream of shear terror, Brian quickly left the room and shut the door behind him.

Outside, Sherrie Burkin saw him and quickly gave him a hug, "What's wrong, Uncle Brian?"

"I just got too scared in there, that's all," Brian said, recovering from the shakes that had attacked him and wiped a smudge of chocolate from the little girl's cheek, "Go on to bed."

As Sherrie ran off down the hall, Brian got up and headed back inside the room once the screaming stopped. Everyone inside was looking on in shocked silence.

"The Nemesis," Wesker uttered after a long time, "It's gone."


	14. New Girl

Chapter 13

"New Girl"

July 2nd 1988

Brian sat with the female subject long after Burkin and the others had left. He watched over her as she slept. Closing his eyes, he remembered a song that he sang to his little sister when she'd had bad dreams. Looking at the female subject, he knew that she needed someone to help her sleep, but he would be damned to hell if he was going to risk getting caught singing a lullaby to a test subject. It wasn't because he was callous, or because it was embarrassing, but because if someone caught him singing to her, it would raise suspicions, and that was something he could not afford to happen.

The familiar sound of metal grinding against metal echoed around the room as the door opened, and Brian looked to see who it was.

Sherrie Burkin looked cautiously around the doorframe before entering, "Are you okay, Uncle Brian?"

"Yeah, Sherrie. I'm okay," Brian said sleepily.

Sherrie bit her lower lip nervously before walking over to Brian and giving him a hug, "It stinks in here."

Brian laughed, picked Sherrie up, and tossed her over his shoulder as though she were a sack of potato's causing her to giggle uncontrollably as he headed out of the room.

Once outside, Brian sat Sherrie down, "Now run along squirt, I got work to do."

As Sherrie ran off, Brian headed down the long hallway towards the holding rooms where the other test subjects lived.

"Good evening," Brian pleasantly greeted the test subject as he walked through her door.

"It's night?" was all she asked.

Brian checked his watch, "Yeah, it's after midnight. What's your name?"

"Faith Craft," she told him.

Brian looked at her quizzically and cocked his head to the right, "Faith?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"That's not something we have a whole lot of in this place. How long have you been here?"

"They brought me in yesterday," Faith told him.

Brian pulled a chair close to where she was and sat on it, ready to write on the clipboard that he held, "Are you allergic to anything?"

Faith shook her head.

"Do drugs?" Brian asked while scribbling on the clipboard.

"Not since I found out I was pregnant," Faith told him and rubbed her swollen belly almost protectively.

Brian looked at her stomach, noticing it for the first time, "Congratulations. For far along is it?"

"Five months. She's due in November," Faith said and smiled, "Are you a doctor?"

"Yes, I'm an MD."

"How long am I going to be here?"

"Probably not too long," Brian said, then looked at her, "Have you been given an injection yet?"

"No. Why?"

Brian leaned back and looked out of the door, then got up to close it, "If you tell anyone what I'm going to tell you, I will deny it and you and your baby will spend the rest of your lives down here."

Faith looked horrified, but nodded.

Brian let out a heavy sigh, "If someone comes to give you a shot while I'm gone, kick him in his nuts and break the needle. Do what ever you have to do to keep the needle out of your arm. You understand me?"

"Yes," Faith squeaked.

Brian nodded and left the room. Outside, he saw Jay on his way to the cafeteria, "Jay, I want you to watch over Mrs. Craft here, okay?"

Jay nodded, "Okay. What're you up to?"

"Let me just say, that Kate ain't going to be the only one to leave. I ain't gonna let them use an expectant mother as a test subject. Make sure that no one but me goes in to see her."

"Is she going to vanish?" Jay asked with a lop-sided smirk.

"Right out of the state," Brian said and headed down the hall to the computer room.


	15. Disappearing Act

Chapter 14

"Disappearing Act"

July 3rd – 4th 1988

Brian saw Jay walking towards him the next day, a look of confusion clear on his face.

He pulled his face away from the microscope long enough to look at his friend, "'Sup?"

"Hey, Brian. Say, do you know where Kate is?" Jay asked, and saw his friend's face crack into a grin, "I went to see her and she wasn't in her cell…err…room and she wasn't there."

Brian's smile was enigmatic, "She…disappear?"

Before he could respond, William Burkin tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a sheet of paper, "Here's your pass. Don't miss the next chopper into town, otherwise you're walkin'."

As Burkin walked away, Jay looked at the paper in his hand as though it would fade from existence, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly causing him to look remarkably like a fish on dry land.

Brian checked his watch, "Next chopper leaves in fifteen minutes, bud. Better run."

Jay looked from the paper, to Brian, "Thank you."

Just as he turned to run towards the helicopter pad, Brian called after him, "Jay?"

"Yeah?"

Brian smiled, "1945 West Park Drive. Apartment 267."

Jay looked at the pass, then quickly walked over to where Brian was sitting, and pulled him into a brotherly hug, "How can I repay you for this, man?"

Brian returned his friend's hug, "Just tell her I said 'hi' when you see her."

"I'll repay you, somehow. I promise."

"Just get out of here. You're gonna miss your ride."

Jay pulled away from his friend, grinned, and took off down the hall, leaving Brian with his work once more.

Brian worked through the night into Independence Day, and didn't go to sleep until midnight. He was getting up to go to bed after his 24 hour work stretch when Jay appeared, leaning against the doorway to the lab, dressed in his Class A uniform. A plate covered in plastic wrap was in his hand.

Brian rubbed his eyes, yawned, and looked at Jay; "I take it you found her apartment?"

Jay let his face fall into a lazy, contented, smile before nodding.

"Talked to her?"

Another nod.

"Went to dinner?"

Nod.

"Movie?"

Nod.

"Night Cap?"

Another nod.

"Talked more?"

Nod.

"Did a little more than talk?"

Jay's smile widened before he gave another lazy nod. He then strolled over to Brian and handed him the plate.

"She baked these cookies for you. Chocolate Chip. She wanted me to tell you that she loves you…and to give you this," he promptly leaned in close and kissed Brian on his cheek, "That's from her, not me."

"Good," Brian said, looking mildly horrified.

Jay turned and left the lab, looking more confident as he seemed to strut down the hall. Albert Wesker came into the lab shortly after Jay left and saw the cookies in Brian's hands.

"Ah, chocolate chip, my favorite," he said while reaching for one.

Brian slapped Wesker's hand away as though he were a child of four and not a grown man of twenty eight, "Hands off, Stone Face! If you want one, ask."

"May I have a cookie?" Wesker asked through clenched teeth.

Brian shrugged and tossed him one of the still warm treats before getting up and going for some much needed rest, "No more 24 hour shifts."


	16. Poker, Plans, and Postcards

Chapter 15

"Poker, Plans, and Postcards"

July 5th 1988

The cards were worn so old they had turned yellow around the edges and had taken on a tint only two shades lighter than the yellowed corners. They snapped, buzzed, and swooshed as Brian cut them and shuffled them back together, the sounds they made echoed around the recreation room before dying in the hallway.

Jay was sitting across from him, his cheek was resting on his fist and his elbow rested on the table, a look of boredom was stitched on his face.

"I still don't see why you want to play for money," Jay said as he idly watched the cards split between Brian's hands like the Red Sea for Moses, then flow gracefully back together.

"It's either that, or we play for specimen cups," Brian said as he cut and shuffled the cards again.

Jay thought about that for a second, then looked at his pile of poker chips and asked, "What's the limit again?"

Brian smirked and dealt four cards, two for each of them, the first card face down, the second face up. He lifted his own cards and nodded to himself.

Jay looked at his cards and said, "Hit me."

Brian dealt him one card, a five, in addition to his showing five. Jay bet ten dollars, and Brian saw him his ten and raised twenty. They bet twice more before Brian said, "Call."

Jay flipped his card over to show it was a King, "Twenty."

Brian scratched his nose with the edge of the deck before setting it down and used the corner of his showing Queen card to flip the other one, reveling it to be the Ace of Spades, "Twenty one."

"Fuck!"

Brian laughed as he picked up his chips and shuffled the deck again. He dealt another hand and grinned, "You know the female subject?"

Jay looked at his cards carefully then picked up a chip, "I'll open for ten bucks. What about her?"

"She's learning. Quickly. Raise you three," Brian dropped his chips in the pile and dealt himself another card.

"I'll see your bet and raise you five. When do you think she can get out of here?" Jay asked, then looked at his cards, "Hit me."

Brian dealt him a card and tossed three chips into the pot, "I'll see your five, and raise you fifteen. It won't be for a few more years yet. I can't make the first move."

Jay dropped three chips and they hit the others with a plastic _click-click-click_, "Why not?"

"It's be too obvious. I spend a lot of time with her. If I was to smuggle her out of here on a phony pretence, they might get curious. I can't risk them coming after us once we're out. Raise ya one dollar."

A messenger dropped a postcard on the pile of poker chips and continued on his appointed rounds. Jay picked it up, glanced at the back, then handed it to Brian, "Gotta like a girl who gets right to the point."

Brian read the five words on the back of the card.

Thank you, Brian.

~ Faith Craft

Brian smiled to himself, that was all it said. He glanced at the postmark and saw it was from Houston Texas.

"Nothing like helping a friend, huh?" Jay asked with a smile.

"No. Nothing quite like it," Brian agreed, setting the postcard aside while looking at the picture.

"You know you saved her life, right?" Jay asked.

"I know."

"So why do you look so down and out?"

Brian sighed, leaned back in his chair, and scratched his stomach idly, "Because I'm just starting to realize that the one person I want to help more than anything else may be beyond my ability to heal."

"She ain't. You just gotta keep trying," he flipped his cards, "Eighteen."

Brian smiled at his friend and said; "Thanks," before flipping his cards, "Nineteen."

"Fuck!"


	17. New Surprises, Old Package

Chapter 16

"New Surprises, Old Package"

July 6th 1988

Brian snapped awake the second Jay touched his arm, startling his friend.

"Jumpy?" Jay asked, amusement in his voice.

"Whatever you want, take it and get out," Brian grumbled and angrily slapped his pillow over his head to keep the light out of his eyes.

"I don't want anything," Jay said, a little put off by his friend's grumpy demeanor.

Brian growled into his pillow; "It's on the dresser, get out."

"You might wanna wakeup for this, man," Jay told him.

"Is the lab on fire?"

Jay looked puzzled; "No."

"Has anyone died?"

"No."

"Is blood gushing?"

"No."

"Then it can wait, go away," Brian grunted, then turned on his side, away from Jay.

Jay grabbed his friends shoulder and forced him to lay on his back, "Burkin's makin' a beeline for her room with a shit load a' test tubes n' needles."

"Her who?" Brian asked sleepily while holding his hand over his eyes, "Can't you turn off that fucking light?"

Jay turned off the main overhead light in the room, then flipped on the black-light on Brian's nightstand, knowing the light it would give off would be easier on his friend's eyes, "Your girlfriend's room. The female subject."

Brian sat up in his bed, tossing the covers off himself before swinging his legs out of bed and went to looking for his pants, "What the hell does he want? Don't he know we're in charge of her? He should of told us if he was goin' to do something."

Jay saw a pair of Brian's blue jeans draped over the back of a chair and tossed them to his friend, "I don't know what's up with the fruit-loop these days. He keeps muttering something under his breath. He might have woken Wesker by now."

Brian jerked his pants on twice before he got it right on the third time, the first time his got both feet down the same pant-leg, the second time he pulled them on backwards, "Just wonderful. The Curly and Larry of the underground headin' for my charge, full steam ahead."

"Curly and Larry?"

"Yeah, neither one's smart enough to be Moe or Shemp."

"Guess you're right. You better hurry unless you want the two stooges pokin' her."

Brian finished pulling on his boots and headed out of the room, grabbing a T-shirt and putting it on as he headed down the hall, but not before stealing a glance at the clock; "Can't believe I gotta play chaperone at 11:59pm."

"'Tis the burden we bear. The curse of being unsung genus'," Jay told him sadly.

"Amen brother."

They caught Burkin in the hallway. Albert Wesker followed him, shuffling his feet and yawning sleepily. From the look of it, Burkin had awoken him out of a deep sleep and he was none too happy about it.

Brian stepped in front of Burkin, blocking his path; "What're you doing, Willie?"

William Burkin just sidestepped Brian and continued on his way. Wesker was about to do the same, but he was stopped when Brian snatched the collar of his unbuttoned short-sleeve shirt.

"What's he up to, Stone Face?" he asked.

Wesker let out a low growl of frustration; "You know how he was obsessed with his G Project a few years back?"

"It was almost a decade ago, but yeah, I think I remember it," Brian told him

"Well, he was mumbling something about it and the female subject when he woke me up. Whatever he wants with her must have something to do with it."


	18. Orderly Disposal

Chapter 17

"Orderly Disposal"

July 31st 1995

Jay ran the whole way from the helicopter landing pad to the female subject's room, his Army boots thundered down the hall making researchers, soldiers, and subjects think a tornado had struck the earth above their heads. He only stopped outside of her door to catch his breath and hold his flank in an effort to make the growing side-stitch go away. Through his labored breaths, he heard Brian reading out loud;

__

"'All is silent in the halls of the dead. All is forgotten in the stone halls of the dead. Behold the stairways which stand in darkness; behold the rooms of ruin. These are the halls of the dead where the spiders spin and the great circuits fall quiet, one by one.'"

Jay did not know that the lab he worked in would become the halls of the dead his friend was reading about in a little more than three years time, but he did know that the passage that he had just heard held a large amount of truth about the place of his employment in the present. There were a few spider webs in the corners, and it was, quite literally, the halls of the dead.

Jay pushed all this to the back of his mind and entered the room to see his friend facing away from him.

Brian was leaning back in his chair, his boots resting on the table in front of him and turned the page in his book as he read softly by candlelight, careful not to wake the female subject.

Jay however, was not so considerate; "Brian, come with me! Now!"

The shouts scared his friend so much that he tipped over in his chair and landed flat on his back. The yelling from the frantic soldier he also startled the female subject and she awoke with a jerk, her chains rattling loudly.

Brian got to his feet a split second after he hit the floor, rubbing the back of his head, "The hell, man?"

"Wesker's back and Burkin's in tow!" Jay said in one breath, as though that simple statement could convey everything he needed to say.

For a second, Brian could only blink, then he patiently said; "Albert Wesker has been in the information department for 17 years, Jay. William Burkin hasn't been in charge here for a good long while. Now why is their return so important that it requires you to shout at the top of your lungs?"

Jay grit his teeth, they didn't have any time to waste and shouldn't be standing around talking like this; "Because they're back to 'dispose' of _her_!" he jerked his thumb at the female subject.

Brian's brain shut down for a moment, "What? Why?"

"Because she can think now," Jay said sarcastically.

"What just because she bit the hand that feeds her a few times?"

Jay blinked and looked at his friend as if to ask, _Are you really that stupid?_

Instead he said, "She didn't bite the hand that feeds her, she ripped the faces off of three female researchers and wore them like Halloween masks!"

Brian seemed to have squirted some WD-40 on his brain because he suddenly reached into the pockets of his lab coat and withdrew a sterile syringe and a packaged needle. He tore the package in two with so much force that the needle flew from the paper, spun in the air twice, and landed in the same pocket it just been inside, like a competition diver going for a number ten from the judges.

He fished the needle from the pocket and poked himself twice doing it. Brian attached the needle to the syringe and opened the drawer to his desk before pulling a vile from inside.

Jay saw that XNB-1 had been written on the label with a black ink pen.

Brian stabbed the needle into the rubber cap and filled the syringe. He jerked the needle from the vile, aimed the needle's point at the hanging light in the room and pushed the air from the tube until liquid squirted out of the minute hole in the thin metal.

Jay watched as Brian injected the female subject and saw her wince when the needle pierced her skin and entered her vain.

No sooner had Brian tossed the syringe into the hazardous materials container and stuffed the vile into his pocket than Wesker, Burkin, and the new lab director John had walked through the door.

"You can't do this," Brian told them, "She's still a human being. She should be treated like one."

"We have to, Brian. Stand aside," Wesker told him.

Brian sighed, seeing this was pointless; "Alright. But at least let me stay with her."


	19. Unraveled

Chapter 18

"Unraveled"

August 1st 1995

Brian sat on the edge of the bed, holding the female subject's hand in his and smoothing her hair with his other while trying to reassure her that everything would be okay.

Albert Wesker leaned over her chained arm and injected her with a lethal dose of curare. He handled her more kindly than he ever had before.

They all waited while the drug took effect, and watched. Brian was the first to know it when her grip on his hand slackened, then fell limp. Her breathing became more labored until it seemed as though she was being strangled, and in fact, she was. The curare had paralyzed her diaphragm and without it, her lungs couldn't expand and take in the air she needed. She was being strangled from the inside.

The drug had paralyzed her muscles and she couldn't do anything, not even thrash her arms or cry out for someone to save her if she still knew how.

It took for what seemed like hours before her hold on life gave out and her heart stopped. She died with Brian holding her limp hand and smoothing her hair like there was nothing more important on the planet.

When John stepped forward with a stethoscope to confirm her death, Brian had to leave or risk crying when the news came.

He walked from the room quickly and headed down the hall to a door he had heretofore never been through. A door that lead to a room only the military and security personal knew of. Being friends with one of the soldiers in the facility granted him the knowledge of the room.

Brian ripped his identification card from where it hung on his lab coat and swiped it though the brand new electronic locking device next to a door with reinforcement bolts running down it's edges. He entered his personal access code into the keypad and the only light on the device, a red one, turned green and a buzzing sound was heard from inside the walls as the lock was disengaged.

He opened the door and slammed it shut, sending the crash of metal on metal echoing up and down the corridors with deafening finality.

Turning to his left, Brian flicked the light switch. The almost ancient florescent light tubes flickered for a moment, then bathed the room in their frosty light.

Looking around, he saw that, indeed, he was in the right room. Brian turned to his right and went over to one of the many gun-closets in the Secondary Armory. These looked like a long row of lockers, only they pulled straight out and, when empty, looked much like a coat-rack. These gun-closets, however, were not empty. The gun-closets on this wall were devoted to pistols. They were listed first by caliber, then by manufacturer.

Brian was muttering to himself almost insanely as he scanned the closed doors, reading the labels under his breath as he went, ".22, Too small, .25, Too small, .380, too small, .38, too small, 9 millimeter, too small, .357 Magnum, too big, .40 too small, .44 Magnum, too big, .45 hmm maybe. .50 Action Express? Fuck that. Thing would take my hand off."

He pulled the .45 shelf out and stepped aside as it slid into the open, then reached in and pulled out a Springfield Armory 1911-A1. The pistol felt lighter than it should have. He soon found that to be because it was empty.

Leaving the gun-closet open, Brian walked to the corner of the room, and opened a door leading to another, smaller, room. Shelf's lined the walls, all stocked with ammunition and clips. Jay would have corrected Brian, saying that they were magazines, not clips. Brian would have told Jay that he didn't give a shit.

Looking around, Brian saw that the clips for the 1911 was within arms reach and he plucked three from where they rested. He slammed one into the butt of the pistol and dropped the last two into his pocket.

He turned and walked out of the armory so fast he might as well have been running.

Jay caught him at the end of the hall to the female subjects room and tried to stop him.

"Brian what're you doing?" Jay asked, stepping in front of his friend.

"I got three clips here. One for each of those fucks by my figures," Brian told him, raised the pistol and jerked the slide, chambering a .45 slug.

"Brian, that's a bad idea. You go and kill 'em and there'll be a thousand soldiers in here with itchy trigger fingers."

"Look, I just don't care. They went and killed her after stealing her life and her childhood!"

Brian pushed Jay aside and walked briskly to the female subject's room, where William Burkin, John, and Wesker were just emerging from.

Brian snatched the nearest warm body he could find, in this case, Albert Wesker, slammed him against the wall, and crammed the barrel of the 1911 against his sunglasses so hard the lens broke.

"Brian, stop it!" Burkin shouted.

"Brian put the gun down," Jay pleaded gently.

Brian did neither, he pressed the pistol harder into Wesker's eye and tightened his finger around the trigger while grinding his teeth to dust.

"Brian," Wesker said quietly, ignoring the growing pain in his eye-socket, "It wasn't my idea. The order came from the facility director."

Brian flexed his finger around the trigger and the hammer on the pistol moved back slightly. He couldn't see the man in front of him, his vision was milky and soon it would turn as white as paper. His rage was quickly blinding him and soon it would deafen him as well. Even now Wesker's voice seemed to be coming from a quarter mile away.

"If it was up to me, this would never have happened," Wesker told him in that same patient voice.

Brian tried to pull the trigger enough to fire the weapon, but it seemed to weigh a metric ton. He might as well have been lifting a redwood. The pistol started shaking in his hand and it had ground the lens shards into the man's face, piercing Wesker's skin. Blood was running down his cheek in thin streams and dripping on his jacket.

Wesker's soft voice seemed to have a calming effect on him, because Brian's vision was slowly returning and he could hear better now. It was hard keeping up a noble rage in the face of such passiveness.

Feeling a warm weight, Brian turned and saw that Jay had his hand over his friend's arm.

"Let it go, Brian," Jay told him quietly.

Slowly, Brian pulled the pistol away and pieces of the broken lenses fell to the floor. As if by divine intervention, none of the shards had cut Wesker's eye. Divine intervention couldn't stop what happened next, though. Brian swung the heavy pistol in a wide arc and connected with the side of Albert Wesker's head, breaking what was left of his sunglasses and knocking him to the floor.

Using the pistol as a weight, Brian backhanded William Burkin, breaking his nose and causing him to fall on top of Wesker.

"You can not comprehend the depth of my loathing for you two," Brian growled at the two fallen men.

Brian spun on the ball of his foot and walked back to his room. Halfway down the hall, his rage returned and peaked. He raised the pistol over his head, jerked on the trigger, and the resulting thunderous crash that tore through the otherwise silent facility caused the new lab director John to do something he hadn't done since he was in diapers. The weapon thundered again and Burkin could feel the shock-waves from the muzzle of the weapon pushing against his innards.

Brian pulled the trigger of the Springfield again and the 1911 let out it's controlled explosion, sending numbing waves down his arm while twisting his hand violently to the left as the .45 caliber slug left the barrel.

Brian's ears were ringing so bad he though he was in a church bell tower on a Sunday morning as he fired the pistol, blowing out one of the florescent fixtures, until their was no longer any ammunition in the magazine. Even when the weapon fell silent and the last of the spent cartridges tinkled hollowly on the tile, Brian still tried to fire the Springfield.

After what seemed like eternity, he lowered the pistol to his side, glancing at it to see the slide had locked back after the last round was fired. He let the weapon pull his arm to his side before pressing the magazine release with his thumb.

The clip slid from the pistol and landed amongst the empty shells, knocking a few aside and sent them skittering across the floor and into other shells. Like ripples in a pond, cartridges slid and clinked into others, some slid up against the wall, others skittered and spun into Brian's boots.

Brian walked towards his room, his head hung low. He was tired. The acid smell of gunpowder followed him and drifted into his nostrils, causing his eyes to water.

Jay watched his friend as he walked, then smelled something very different than gunpowder.

Sniffing, Jay turned to John and a look of disgust crossed his face; "Man, go wipe your ass!"


	20. Halls Of The Dead

Chapter 19

"Halls Of The Dead"

August 2nd 1995

Jay stood outside Brian's quarters, rubbing his hands together nervously. He had been through this door many times before, but this time it was hard. He was scared of what he might find, or what might be said on the other side of this door. Setting himself to the task, Jay swallowed his fears and doubts and knocked meekly on the metal door.

"Well, he must not be awake," Jay told himself the second his knuckles left the cool metal and turned to walk away.

The voice on the other side told him otherwise and stopped him dead in his tracks; "Come in."

Slowly, almost fearfully, Jay returned to the door and turned the knob. Taking a deep breath, he opened the metal door, it's rusty hinges made a sound that was akin to Godzilla belching as it slide ajar.

As he walked inside, Jay looked around the small dimly lit room. Most of Brian's things had been packed already, an Army surplus rucksack, already packed and closed lay next to his bed, and an olive drab duffel bag lay open on the bed, the sleeve of a bright green T-shirt protruded from the opening.

The Springfield Armory 1911-A1 that he had taken from the Weapons Room and fired in frustration in the hallway after the Female Subject's death lay on the nightstand next to the bed, the slide still locked back after the last round was fired from the old magazine, though Jay could now see the golden shine of a bullet inside a fully loaded clip waiting to be chambered.

"Going somewhere?" Jay asked, looking from the pistol, to the packed rucksack next to the bed.

"I'm leaving. I put in my resignation, it was accepted. I'm catching the chopper out, day after tomorrow then I'm out of the halls of the dead for good."

Jay watched as his friend crossed the space between his bed and his dresser and viscously stuffed shirts and pants into the duffel bag as though he was trying to punch a man in the stomach.

"So that's it?" he asked.

"That's it," Brian stated, grunting as he punched another shirt into the bag, "I'm through with this place."

Jay's eyes fell upon the tile floor as Brian headed back to his open dresser for another handful of shirts and socks, and said; "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I know how much you cared for her."

Brian slowed in his rummaging briefly, his hand wrapped around a pair of white boxers, then turned and went back to his bed, "Thanks."

"Won't bring her back, though," Jay said.

"No. It won't bring her back."

"You knew, though. Didn't you?"

"Knew what?"

"That it would end like this."

Brian stiffened up briefly, as though he was expecting a blow to his midsection, then quickly relaxed, but not before Jay was able to notice.

"I had to try."

"Why did you have to try so hard?"

Brian's arms dropped from where they were poised to sock the clothing he held into his duffel bag. All of the sudden, they seemed to weigh fifty seven pounds each, and he was extremely tired.

Without turning, Brian asked; "Did I ever tell you about my mom?"

Jay felt a story coming on. Normally he avoided stories as much as possible, but he felt this was important; "No."

"She was a lovely woman. Loved my dad like nothing I've ever seen before. When I was two years old, my dad divorced her. She was pregnant when he left us. Before the baby was born, she remarried. I think she was scared to raise her son and her unborn daughter alone. My mom's name was Jessica Jackson until she met my step-dad. When she married him, she did what damned near all women do. She took his name. When my sister was born, she also took my step-dad's name. My step-dad's name was George Trevor. My sister's name is…_was_ Lisa. Lisa Trevor."

Brian dropped the shirt he was holding, turned to the night stand, and took a file folder from the drawer before handing it to Jay; "This is the reason I'm here. This was in the oldest section of the archives. It dates back to when this facility was first built."

Jay took the folder from his friend and looked it over. It was worn to the color of old parchment and smelled of mold. He opened the folder and looked on the sheet of yellowed paper and which was fastened to the folder with metal brackets. He scanned the typed print until something caught his eye;

11-12-1967

Test Subjects, Names, Sex, Age, Dates Of Birth, Active/Deceased

001: Trevor, Jessica | Female | 40 | 10-28-1927 | Deceased

002: Trevor, Lisa | Female | 14 | 06-18-1953 | Active

Jay could have read further, but there was no need. His jaw tightened and a look of pity crossed his face as he looked to his friend, who's chin was jerking up and down, the surest sign that a person was about to cry. Everything made sense now. Why he spent so much time with her, why he brought her food, why he cleaned her face the first day they arrived, why he looked at her with a kind of love he showed no one else as she slept, why he hummed lullabies to help her sleep when he didn't think anyone was around, why he froze when he heard Wesker and Burkin were coming to kill her, and why he lost his mind when they finally did it.

"That's my sister lying dead in there," a repressed sob escaped Brian's throat and his chin jerked up and down harder, "And that's why I had to try so hard."

Jay lowered his head, fearing that if he held his friend's gaze any longer, he would cry himself.

Brian turned and punched two more shirts into his duffel bad, his shoulders shaking as he did, "My sister was fourteen when they brought her here. I was living with my real dad when it happened, and we lost all contact with them. We filed a Missing Persons Report with the Raccoon City Police Department, but we never found them," he punched another shirt into the bag and let out a sniffle, "One day, it leaked out that two women were being held here. They matched the description of my mom and sis, so, when I was old enough, I did some digging. It was them, alright. 

"I found out later that my mother was already dead, but my sister was still alive. That's when I told myself that no matter what the cost, I was going to get her out of here."

Jay opened his mouth, but closed it again. He couldn't find any words of comfort for his friend. He had lost a brother in Operation Desert Storm, but he was at home when he got the news. His father had called him and told him that his brother died in a helicopter crash. Sand had blown into the engine, causing it to fail in flight.

He could relate to Brian in the respect of both senselessly losing a relative, but that was all. With his brother, it happened quick and he found out from a phone call, but Brian had to watch his sister lying as a vegetable for twenty eight years until she was injected with curare and killed in front of his eyes.

Was there any words of comfort for something like that?

Jay didn't think so, and if there were, they alluded him.

Still, he wanted to say something, finally, after a full five minutes, he said "I don't know what to say."

Well, it's a start.

"I know."

"You two were close, weren't you?"

Brian nodded, "She was always sweet to me. She once brought a butterfly into our room. It had a broken wing and she wanted to take care of it," his voice cracked at the end and he had to wipe away the tears before going on, "I didn't like it, or understand it, it was just a fucking butterfly after all, but she wanted to, so she made a bed for it in her doll house, and I put some sugar water in an old lid," another sniffle was heard and Brian rubbed the back of his hand under his nose, "She was so sweet. So innocent. She kept that damned butterfly until it healed, and she let it go. As she watched it fly away, she told me that she wanted to be a doctor."

Brian turned from his packing and sat on the edge of his bed, his cheeks were red, puffy, and shimmered with the tracks of his tears, "She wanted to be a doctor, all because of a goddamned butterfly."

He looked at Jay, unrepressed misery etched into his features, "Umbrella not only stole her life, but they stole mine as well."

"What do you mean?"

"I tried for twenty eight years to save her. Now she's dead, and I'm an old man. I can't start over, I'm fifty two years old now. I have no more life to live. My life has been for nothing."


	21. Preparations

Chapter 20

"Preparations"

August 3rd 1995

Brian paid another visit to the Secondary Armory the next day around eleven o'clock. He needed to get some things before midnight. After coming through the door, he headed over to the row of gun-closets on the far wall, which held assault rifles.

Much as he had done the first time, he scanned the rows of closets, muttering the labels under his breath, though he found what he was looking for almost instantly, "Here we go."

He pulled open one of the four gun-closets that had '5.56' printed on the door. His face fell into an expression of disappointment when he saw that the alphabetical listing started with H. The first gun in the closet was the H&K-93, and it ended with the Ruger Mini-14. The labels however didn't matter to Brian, mainly because he had no idea what they meant. Not many people would, he guessed. 

"Must be an Army thing," he muttered and closed the sliding compartment. He didn't know what the labels meant, he just knew that this was not what he was looking for.

He walked to the first gun-closet with '5.56' printed on the door and opened it. The first thing his eyes landed on was, indeed, what he was looking for. He reached in and pulled a Colt M-16 A1 from it's place by the combination rear sight/carrying handle.

Brian was always planning his next move, and now, he had to plan for a future which may be most inhospitable. A world where the only thing the future inhabitants of the planet understood was hunger and the law the came from the barrel of a gun.

He tossed the weapon lightly in his hands, testing it's weight.

"Kind of heavy," he said to himself, though he knew that at about seven pounds, this was one of the lighter rifles in the room, "Though I think I can handle it."

Brian took a soft shelled rifle case from under the table in the middle of the room and promptly shoved the M-16 inside. He took another soft shell case from under the table and returned to the open gun-closet and looked inside for a second, then withdrew a Colt M-4 Carbine. These are the shortened versions of the United States Military's famous M-16 rifles.

Nodding to himself, Brian stuffed the Colt M-4 inside the rifle bag. He tossed both bags on the table, then pulled a very large blue duffel bag from under the table and opened it. Brian moved to a metal cabinet in the corner of the room that had 'Attachments' printed on the door and peered inside. His eyes landed on what he was looking for instantly and he withdrew the M-203 40 millimeter grenade launcher. His eyes drifted to the top shelf of the cabinet and he shrugged before taking the M-203's heat-shield.

"This thing's gonna kick ass when I get it set up," he muttered to himself as he went to the ammunition closet.

It was called a closet, when in reality it was a room as big, if not bigger, than the weapons room he had just left. It had enough ammunition to outfit every soldier and most scientists in the facility. 

With that much ammo, Brian thought, they won't miss a few rounds here and there.

After opening the door and flipping the light switch, causing the florescent lights to flicker to life, Brian let his eyes wander to the row of shelf's on his right side. He scanned them for a while, then found what he was looking for. He picked out a special magazine for the M-16, it was a dual drum magazine that was capable of holding one hundred rounds of ammunition.

He took twenty four of these magazines and put them in the duffel bag in the other room, then returned to the ammunition closet with the duffel bag in hand. He turned to the row of shelf's on his left, grabbed a handful of magazines for the Springfield 1911-A1 he took, then walked to the back of the room, where the shelf's ended and looked at the many belts hanging on the last third of the walls. Some were surplus military web belts, others were hunting belts that had 12 gauge shotgun shells already stuffed in the loops.

Hanging next to the belts holding the shotgun shells, were belts of 40 millimeter high explosive grenades, the kind that would be made famous in the movie _Terminator 2: Judgement Day_. He took two of these belts, a large ammunition box which was filled with thirty round box magazines for the M-16 and the M-4 Carbine he had packed, and two dust covered Vietnam Era Flak Jackets that looked as though they hadn't been moved since the Vietnam War.

Brian took these things, packed what he could in the duffel bag he had brought, and carried what he couldn't, as well as the duffel bag, back to his room. As he lay on his bed, he waited until tomorrow, when his transport would come and take him and one other passenger to Raccoon City.


	22. Good Byes And Flight

Chapter 21

"Good Byes And Flight"

August 4th 1995

Brian was on the helicopter pad on the roof of the mansion which stood over the underground laboratories at eight o'clock the next evening, his rucksack was a noticeable weight on his back, his two duffel bags laying next to him. He held the two rifle bags in his left hand, who's combined weight of thirteen pounds were causing the bags' handles to dig painfully into his palm.

He didn't dare put them down, because the two soldiers by the door might wonder what was in those bags that was so heavy. Best not to call attention to himself. Brian recognized the soldiers stationed by the doorway. They were members of Jay's Fire Team.

Brian turned his head slightly when a figure appeared in the corner of his eye. It was Jay.

"You sure about this?" he asked.

"As sure as I can be," Brian told him.

"Can I ask why?"

Brian let out an exhausted sigh and lowered his head, "I'm tired, Jay. All I see here is death. As Popeye said, 'That's all's I can stands, and I can't stands no more.'"

Jay chuckled, "Okay. Fair enough."

They waited in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Jay thinking about the last three decades he had spent there, Brian thinking about what he was going to do next. Finally, they heard the high-pitched whine of a helicopter's turbine engine and the _whump-whump-whump _of it's rotors. They looked to the transport as it appeared over the treetops.

"Packed everything?" Jay asked, "Shirts, socks, underwear, toothbrush, antiperspirant, gas mask, whoopee cushion?"

Brian let out a laugh, "Yeah, I got everything. Including a Survival Manual."

Jay's face turned serious, "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'm gonna miss you too," Brian told him.

The Army surplus helicopter landed on the pad in front of them, dust and dead leaves kicked into the air by the chopper's rotors.

As soon as the landing skids settled on the landing pad, two male nurses wheeled a gurney out of the doorway. The two soldiers marched next to the gurney as though they were escorting a convict from a maximum security prison. On the gurney was a black plastic body bag.

Both Brian and Jay knew that the remains of the female subject had been placed inside the body bag and was being taken away for proper disposal somewhere.

"Three days of checking to make sure she's dead," Brian muttered through clenched teeth, "And they still have her under guard. Can't they let her rest yet?"

"It's not fair, I know. They won't even give her a proper burial," Jay told him.

The two nurses slid the body bag into the transport and headed back into the mansion, followed by the two soldiers.

Brian picked up the two duffel bags next to him, and headed towards the helicopter, followed by his friend. He loaded his things in next to the body bag, trying his best not to look at the container of his sister's remains, and closed the sliding door.

As Jay watched his friend, he noticed for the first time how old Brian really was. Though he still had a rather childish face, his hair was starting to gray at the temples, and the setting sun brought out the wrinkles and worry lines that the florescent lights of the lab had hidden so well.

Jay thought back on how his friend almost always had a lopsided smile stuck on his face as though he was perpetually amused with the lab, and indeed, the world around him. Now that he had found out about Brian's sister, Jay had to wonder how much of his friend's humor had been forced, and how much had escaped him over the course of their time in the subterranean labs.

One thing was for sure, if one was to meet Brian for the first time just now, they would think that he had never laughed a day in his life.

Brian turned to Jay and pulled him into a hug.

"I'll invite you over for Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner, give me a reason to cook something other than a Swanson's TV Dinner."

"Good, it'll give me a reason to eat something other than the crap they serve in here," Jay told him, before pulling away.

"Later," Brian said.

"Later," Jay replied, then turned and headed back into the mansion.

Brian crossed in front of the helicopter, to the pilot's side and tapped on the glass until the pilot opened the door.

"I got orders to take this helicopter to it's destination!" Brian shouted over the roar of the turbine engine and held out an official document to the pilot.

He had no real orders, the papers were forged. He hoped the pilot would fall for it.

The pilot read the document carefully, then turned to Brian, "These are from Spencer?"

"Yeah, they came right from the top!"

"This some covert shit?"

"Need to know!"

The pilot muttered a curse that was drowned out by the whine of the engine and the steady _whump-whump-whump_ of the rotors and produced and set of papers.

"Still gotta sign for the chopper, or it's my ass!"

Brian took the papers and the pen and, using the side of the helicopter as a writing surface, signed for the transport under the new lab director's name.

He handed the papers back to the pilot as he got out of the helicopter, "Remember, keep this quiet!"

The pilot waived Brian's reminder aside and headed into the mansion.

Brian got into the helicopter and put on the set of headphones that would allow him to hear over the sound of the engine. He pulled a screw driver from his pocket, and proceeded to remove the panel to the transport's tracking system. He then took a small black box from the inside pocket of his black leather jacket. The box had three wires protruding from the top, a small number pad like those found on pay phones, and a switch under the keypad.

He attached the wires on the box to wires on the helicopter's tracking system before turning to the transport's controls. He grasped the lever to his right, the one that controlled the helicopter's climb and decent, and the joystick in his left hand. He then placed his feet on the control pedals, took a deep breath, and raised the control lever slowly.

The helicopter's landing skids ground on the landing pad before the chopper rose into the air. Brian gently manipulated the collective controls until the chopper was on course, speeding over the treetops towards Raccoon City.

After a time of listening to Air Traffic Controllers and other aircraft over the radio's headset, he scanned the rows of controls for a time. Thankfully, a helicopter was not like a car in the respect that, if it was high enough, you _could_ take your eyes off of the view front of you. Brian took his eyes from the windshield long enough to turn off the helicopter's transponder, causing the transport to appear as just another unremarkable blip on the Air Traffic Controller's radar screen.

The helicopter entered Raccoon City about an hour later, and Brian flew over a rather deserted street, just above the buildings when his radio crackled to life and someone started asking for him by name.

"Brian, you there? Over," the voice asked.

"I'm here Edward, what's your status? Over,"

"Two miles from your present location, heading north. Over,"

"Switch to the alternate frequency. Over,"

"Roger."

Brian turned several dials on the radio until he heard Edward's voice, "Testing...Brian you there?"

"Roger."

"You ready to do this? Over,"

"Roger, drop below radar coverage and activate on my signal, over,"

"Acknowledged"

Brian lowered the control lever and felt the helicopter respond almost at once. He waited until he was well below the rooftops and just barely high enough to clear the stoplights.

"Three," Brian said into the microphone and let his finger rest on the switch on the box, "Two, one, activate."

He flipped the switch on the black box, keeping his eyes on the intersection in front of him. It's a good thing he did keep his eyes on the intersection, because a second later a helicopter identical to the one he was flying appeared from between the buildings and banked sharply until it was heading in the same direction Brian was.

Brian pulled the joystick of his own aircraft and pressed down on the appropriate pedal until the transport banked to the right and headed along the other helicopter's previous course.

Edward's voice crackled over Brian's headphones, "You think this is going to work? Over."

"Only if you got everything, over."

"Run me through the list one more time, over."

"My identification? Over."

"Check."

"Papers showing you as the assigned personnel for transportation of female subject 002 for orderly disposal? Over?"

"What? Brian I just barely got my G.E.D. Could you run that by me again? Over,"

Brian groaned and simplified the question, "You the FedEx man?"

"Oh, check."

"Got the body? Over."

Now Edward's voice sounded considerably more uncomfortable, "Check."

"Did you give the injection?"

"Just before we left, check."

"Then that's everything. Just remember, land, show the ID, show the papers, unload the body, and get out of there. Over."

"Roger. Good luck, Brian. Over and under…err…out."

It wasn't until then that it hit Brian. The words "Good luck" that was most likely an offhanded comment on Edward's part, made Brian realize the full scope of what he was doing. It wasn't fear of the law, it was fear of Umbrella. They hated lose ends, but what he was doing was more than a lose end, it was downright mockery. If the public had found out about this, Umbrella would not only be ruined, but they would be humiliated by a relatively unknown medical doctor who minored in genetic science and nano-technology, and who had befriended a career enlisted soldier.

"Good luck, Edward. Over and out."


	23. Thanksgiving Visit :Epilogue:

Chapter 22

"Thanksgiving Visit"

November 5th 1996

Jay Dallas looked at the slip of paper in his hand, then back at the rather shabby apartment building across the street from him. The address was right, but he had never pictured his friend in a place like this. The end of the street was blocked off because of construction, and the only other way out was through an alley just big enough to allow a person into, or through a warehouse. The few cars around looked as though they hadn't been driven in quiet some time, judging by the flat tires and broken windshields. He also wondered when the last time a street-sweeper had been through there. Newspapers and other trash littered the relatively short street, curbs, and sidewalks.

Looking back at the slip of paper to make sure for the fourth time of the address, Jay walked across the street to the front door of the apartment building and opened it, or at least tried to as the door was locked. He looked to his right and saw the intercom for the apartments. Until now, he had only seen them in the upper-middle class neighborhoods.

"Classy," Jay muttered sarcastically as he pressed the intercom button next to his friend's name.

A few moments later, a voice answered, "Hello?"

Jay was taken aback. That was not his friend's voice, unless his friend had had a sex change operation. He looked back at the tag, and it still read, 'Jackson, B.'

"Uh…is this Brian Jackson's residence?"

"Yes," the woman's voice answered.

He now asked a stupid question, but at the moment, he couldn't think strait, "Is this Brian?"

Jay heard the woman giggle at his question, though she sounded a little old to be giggling, of course, he supposed he needed to get out of the lab more often. He couldn't help but blush at the giggle, even though no one was there to see it.

"Hello?"

Jay sighed in relief at the sound of the familiar voice, "Hey, Brian."

"Jay!" Brian sounded surprised and excited, "Hang on, I'll buzz you up."

Jay smiled and chuckled as the intercom clicked off. A second later the door buzzed long enough to mask the clicking of the lock and Jay entered the building.

Brian opened his apartment door to let his friend inside, "Long time no see."

"Likewise," Jay said with a smile and pulled Brian into a brotherly hug, "I never pictured you in this shit hole. This place seems like where a cop would live."

"Probably because it is," Brian said with a grin.

"Oh," Jay said and tightened his lips together before holding out a brown paper sack, "Brought you this."

Brian took the sack from him, "It's not Jack Daniel's, is it?"

"Not for Thanksgiving, no."

"Jim Beam, then?"

"Very funny."

Brian pulled the bottle from the sack, "Hey, wine."

"Yeah, it a Mar…marl…it's French and I can't pronounce it."

"Must be good then," Brian said with a smile, then stepped aside to allow his friend to enter the living room and look around before returning to the small, enclosed kitchen.

Jay let his eyes wander around the living room for a time, then decided that this must be his friend's first apartment from the décor. The comfortable looking couch was patched with duct-tape and held level with a stack of books, due to the missing leg. The coffee table looked as though it would collapse if anyone was to risk setting a glass of water on it and the wicker rocking chair in the corner was missing an arm. The love seat looked like it was the newest, and most used piece of furniture, though it was missing a cushion, which Jay found on a recliner that was badly in need of reupholstering.

"Like the place?" Brian inquired after having returned from the kitchen and handed Jay a glass of the wine he had brought.

"I'm envious of your decorating skills," Jay said, his voice oozing with good humored sarcasm as he took the offered glass.

"I haven't really had a lot of experience with that sort of thing, but you probably knew that."

Jay nodded, then his eyes fell on an object in the corner, he studied it to be sure of what he was seeing, then turned to Brian, "When did you get a Class 3 license?"

Brian played dumb, "A what?"

Jay was more specific, "A Class 3 Weapons license."

Brian shrugged and grunted to show that he didn't know what Jay was talking about.

Jay risked setting his glass on the coffee table, then went over to the object that suddenly became the topic of conversation and held it up, "I don't think they sell these to every Joe Blow who wants one."

Brian saw Jay holding up the M-16 A1 that he had fitted with the M-203 grenade launcher, the same one he took from the Secondary Armory in Umbrella's facility and he knew he was caught red-handed.

"No…I don't have a Class 3 license," Brian told him, hoping that answer would be enough.

"So, where did you get this?" Jay asked, though he thought he knew already.

Brian took another sip from his glass in the hope of out waiting his friend.

"Funny thing is," Jay said conversationally as he pulled the charging handle enough to check and see if there was a round in the chamber, "We had an M-16 and an M-4 Carbine come up missing on our last weapons check, along with a large amount of ammo."

"Really?" Brian asked, seemingly surprised, though he looked as though he was trying to drown himself in his glass.

"Yeah, it was about three days after you left," Jay told him, shouldering the rifle and peering down the sights, "The soldier in charge of the armory miscounted on his first check, and the second soldier slacked off, sticking to the previous count instead of really checking."

Brian still had the glass raised as though he was still sipping, even though his lips were pressed too tight to allow the liquid into his mouth.

Jay pulled the trigger and heard the quiet _tack_ as the firing pin struck air, "The twenty four hundred magazine check turned up the missing ordinance and the soldier who slacked off was suspended with pay until the investigation was completed. Don't worry, they won't connect it to you. I made sure that they found out the missing weapons were shot out and needed to be replaced, and that the ammunition was used at the firing range."

"Why?" Brain asked once he found his voice.

"I had a feeling it was you who took the stuff. I knew you never owned those soft-shelled cases before then, and you're blue duffel bag was deformed like it was being weighed down."

Brian nodded, but didn't say anything.

"So, why did you take it?" Jay asked, slipping his thumb around the forward loop on the carrying handle and wrapping his remaining fingers around the uppermost part of the magazine so he could hold the rifle comfortably at his side.

Brian went and sat in the recliner, "The thing about any biological laboratory is that, no matter what the precautions, something will go wrong. I know someone will fuck up down there, and the very nature of the T-Virus dictates that it will infect anything. And anything infected by it will spread to other non-infected things. Plants, animals, and humans alike," he paused, letting his words float in the air, then continued, "When that happens, the T-Virus will filter back here. The first warning signs will appear, but they will be largely ignored if they point at Umbrella. After all, most of this city was built on donations from Umbrella. The officials and newspapers won't want to do anything that would jeopardize their future generous contributions.

"The day that that happens will be a horrific day. The things that will overrun this city won't take no for an answer. They won't take pity on their victims, they won't sleep, and they won't stop. The only thing that will slow them down will be a bullet."

It was a long time before either of them said anything. Brian had put into words what both of them had been fearing.

Brian sat in the recliner, staring into his glass, and Jay stood by the coffee table, clutching the 

Colt M-203 as though his life depended on it, as it just might one day.

A woman's head appeared around the doorframe so she could see them, "Dinner's ready, you two."

"Okay," Brian told her, then saw the look on his friend's face and said, "Will you come here for a moment? There's someone I want you to meet."

The woman obliged, and went into the living room, walking as though she hadn't done it in a good many years. She was of average height, thin, with long sandy blond hair.

Jay was looking at the woman as though he was trying to remember something extremely difficult.

"Yes?" she asked curiously after she stepped over to them.

"Uh, this is my good friend, Jay Dallas," Brian introduced and waited until after they shook hands, then said, "Jay, this is my sister, Lisa Trevor."

Jay's hand froze mid-shake as he looked calmly at her. When she gave no inclination that they had ever met before, he smiled and stepped back, seemingly enrapt with the M-203 in his hand.

"Well don't be to long, you two," She said, turning to go back into the dining room, "Don't want the turkey to get cold, now do you?"

"Give us a minute," Brian told her just as she turned the corner, then turned to Jay.

"I thought she…" Jay began in a hushed voice, but Brian cut him off.

Brian cut him off by gesturing towards the front door. Once they were outside, they were free to talk.

"She's not dead," Brian started.

"Obviously," Jay said, his voice oozing with sarcasm, "What happened?"

Brian pulled a vial from his pocket, XNB-1 printed on the label and handed it to Jay.

Jay turned the vial over in his hands, then looked at Brian, "This is what you injected her with just before they got to her with the curare, right?"

Brian just nodded.

"What is it?"

"What do you know about nano-robotics?"

Jay cast his mind back, "Robots smaller than the human eye can see. They're supposed to be useful in medicine. I thought they were just experimental right now."

Brian looked at him in disbelief.

"I live in a lab, you think I'm not gonna pick something up?"

"Right, well. I found out Umbrella had some fully operational nano-robots. That's what I injected her with."

"Still though, the curare…"

"Curare paralyzes the nervous system, including the diaphragm. Without the diaphragm, you can't breath. Your lungs can't take in a sufficient amount of air. And what is blood used for? One thing it's used for is transporting oxygen to the major organs," Brian shrugged, "Nano-bots can do that. And their silent. So the doctors with the stethoscopes thought her heart wasn't beating."

"Which it wasn't," Jay said slowly.

"Right again. The heart pumps the blood through the body. But for those three days, the nano-bots were moving her blood. They were taking oxygen and nutrients to her organs and brain while keeping her unconscious. They thought she was dead. After four days, the nano-bots shocked her heart to get it started again, then deactivated. They will eventually be passed through her system."

"Four days?" Jay asked, bewildered, "How could it last that long?"

Brian shrugged his shoulders, "I have no clue, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth."

Jay nodded then asked, "Why didn't she remember me? There were times in the lab that she was pretty lucid."

Brian sighed, "I don't know why she doesn't remember. But I took the opportunity to convince her that she has been in a coma since she was fourteen, and that our parents died shortly after that in a car crash."

"But, what if she remembers?"

"Then it'll mean that she is ready to deal with it, and I'll be there to help her. I think she can't remember right now because her conscious has blocked it out. Too traumatic."

"Seems like you thought this through," Jay said, looking at the vial in his hands, "But what about the disposal facility? Wouldn't they notice if they didn't receive a body?"

"I had a friend of mine who has a helicopter help me with that. He broke into the morgue, took a body marked Jane Doe and injected it with the T-virus. After that, he took the body, and flew to intercept the helicopter I was flying," Brian was positively beaming with pride, "Earlier that day I had forged some papers for me to fly the female subject to the facility. We dropped below radar coverage in a deserted part of town then at a prearranged intersection and switched courses, he took my heading, and I took his. We then activated two devices we had installed in the helicopters, they confused the air-traffic controllers into thinking nothing happened."

Jay's head was swimming from his friend's ingenuity, "Damn…well what happened with your friend?"

Brian shrugged, "Think he's with the police now."

"Ah ha!" Jay said so suddenly Brian jumped, "What about Kate? Why ain't they after her?"

Brian's old lopsided smile returned, "She and Faith were so new that they hadn't even been processed by the time I sent them out. I listed them as Dead On Arrival and put some phony names next to their identification numbers."

"So…how did they get setup as well as they are?"

Brian grinned, "I forged papers so Umbrella would think they were new employees."

Jay bowed his head in defeat at not being able to poke a hole in his friend's grand plan.

Down the hall a door opened and a young woman in her early twenty's stepped into the corridor.

"Hey, Jill," Brian called to her, "Having a nice Thanksgiving?"

The woman sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her left ear, "Could be better. How about you, Brian?"

"Pretty damned good. Chris going to stop by?"

Jill rolled her eyes at the ceiling, "No, he's going to see his sister at her college."

"Still thinks you just want to be friends, huh?" Brian laughed, "I thought that batting your eyes and blushing while you asked him over for Thanksgiving dinner would've told him otherwise."

Jill nodded, a very disappointed look in her eyes.

Lisa opened the front door after overhearing Brian and Jill's conversation and poked her head into the hall, "Want to have dinner with us?"

"Yeah, come on," Brian invited her with a smile, "You shouldn't be alone on Thanksgiving."

Jill lowered her head and shuffled her feet like a little girl being told she was cute, "I don't want to impose."

"Not at all. When we cook, our eyes are bigger than our stomachs," Brian said with a gentle smile, "Where were you going, anyway?"

Jill slowly clasped her hands together behind her back and muttered something, keeping her head angled towards the carpet as though it was something embarrassing to admit.

"What was that?" Lisa asked from the doorway.

"I was…going to the store…to pick up…a…turkey TV dinner," She said the last part so quick it was almost one word.

Lisa's mouth dropped open as though she had seen the most grotesque thing imaginable. She was at Jill's side quicker than Jay thought was possible and was pulling her into their apartment, talking quickly about Thanksgiving tradition and how it was a time of family, friends, and togetherness.

Jill didn't put up much of a fight as she was led into the warm apartment.

As Brian was turning to follow, he caught sight of the amused look on his friend's face, "What?"

"You want her," Jay said with a grin.

Brian's mouth popped open several time, each time sounding like someone was flicking a puddle of water before he was able to hiss, "That's not the point!"

Jay's grin widened, "Not denying it, are you?"

Brian set his jaw, his cheeks glowing like stoplights, "She's in love with Chris. She looks at me like a father, and even though she is sexy, I am still old enough to really _be_ her father. I'm starting to think of her as a surrogate daughter anyway. The same goes for Lisa."

Jay's grin was almost toothy, "Might just add a little something to the relationship."

Brian compressed his lips into a thin line and quiet snorting sounds came from his throat in an attempt to keep from screaming in embarrassment and anger at his friend, and finally settled on a loud, "Shut up!"

He stomped into the apartment with Jay, whom was laughing heartily, at his heels. The rest of the night was spent with the laughter and love that can only be shared by family and close friends as they ate and toasted all they had to be thankful for.

Completed on October 31, 2003


End file.
